


I'll Make My Own Choices This Time

by Squishy_TRex



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 17:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11926131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squishy_TRex/pseuds/Squishy_TRex
Summary: Veronica Lodge is more than her family name.





	I'll Make My Own Choices This Time

 

The pearls feel heavy around Veronica’s wrist. She plucks at them, one by one, letting them slap softly against her delicate skin. It stings and she’s glad for it. Reminds her why she keeps wearing it; of the ties that still bind her.

It’s easier to do now, individually pull them apart. The pearls she wears used to be tighter. And they don’t hang around her neck if she can help it.

Morning hasn’t shown its light yet, too early for her to be up any day of the week, especially one without school. Yet here she sits at the dining room table as perfectly put together as she should be. Not a makeup line out of place or wrinkle in her navy blue dress.

Her mother is still asleep. Veronica takes another sip of tea and sends a prayer of thanks for that fact. Solitude is not something she ever envisioned being grateful for, not in this family.

The memories of her dad’s arrest play again in her mind. Everything was at a standstill and as if by defense, Veronica didn’t allow herself to feel anything for the first few minutes upon receiving the news. She remembers staring at her mother, who delivered the news with all the calm of reciting a practiced speech, as if the lives of their entire family hadn’t just imploded.

Too stunned to walk alone, her mother gently guided her through the hallway of familiar faces, some with smirks that seemed to already know of the Lodge family’s downfall.

Then the tears came. Feeling like five years old, she pressed against her mother, who gently drew her in like a swan with her gosling. She could barely hear the consoling words her mother whispered and kept whispering throughout the following weeks and months. More for herself than Veronica as they endured media scrutiny, horrid gossip, and severed ties from relationships once rock solid.  

That was her greatest tragedy. The moment every part of her perfect world shattered into a thousand pieces, all of them too small to allow her any possibility of putting it back together.

Veronica purses her lips at the thought to keep herself from dark laughter. Hindsight is a worse bitch than Cheryl Blossom was.

Finishing her tea, she takes the extra few minutes to carefully wash out the cup. Every part of her life is changing, she makes sure of that. She slips on a stylish coat that provides sufficient protection from the temperature without unflattering bulk.

As she moves to open the door, Veronica catches sight of the pearls still hanging from her wrist. A faint crease mars her smooth brow. Where she’s going they’ll only get in the way. With a smooth movement of her wrist, they slide off and Veronica departs, already feeling lighter.

* * *

 

The walk through winter snow makes Veronica grateful that Archie doesn’t live far.

 Claustrophobic it may be, but the constant buzz and closeness of everything in the city is often at the forefront of Veronica’s mind when she misses her old home.

It’s far too quiet out here. Maybe it’s unusual to expect some signs of life early on a Saturday, but it always gave her comfort. Here in Riverdale, the silence is like a firm pressure keeping its citizens in line. Sometimes, especially at moments like this, Veronica wants to scream, see what would happen, who would hear it.

The silence is broken by the unexpected squawk of a raven. Veronica, startled enough to stop for a moment, glances up at the bird as it waddles across its tree branch. She suppresses a shiver that runs through her and keeps walking.

Her polished black boots finally make their way to Archie’s porch and, for some unnamable reason, she stops herself from knocking on the door. It’s the darkness of an early winter morning or the daunting aspect of being his only support today, but she feels herself tremble. Veronica’s always presents herself as larger than life, but today she just feels small.

The icy air seems to force its way into her chest and her breathing constricts under the growing weight. It would be easy to run away; back home to her mother, an expert in leaving and taking the easy way out. Veronica’s always known when to cut her losses, to keep from being this close to anyone.

But that was then, this is now.

She is still a Lodge; corrupted though it may be, her name can still stand for fearlessness. A different kind than her family’s used to.

Taking in a breath, fists clenched, she steps forward and politely knocks with more force than she intends.

The few seconds of waiting for Archie she spends brushing off any snow and sweeping her hair back. Looking presentable seems shallow considering the circumstances, but it’s all she can control. In a whoosh of air the door swings open and there he is-in all his red-haired, freckled, ridiculously toned glory- with a genuine toothy smile and she feels her heart flip like a gymnast.

Before she can summon a real greeting, he immediately sweeps her into a hug.

“Ronnie,” he breathes out in the space between her neck and shoulder blade. “I’m so happy to see you.” She cautiously brings up her arms around him, feeling awkward for only a few seconds before relaxing to bring him closer.

His embrace is a comfort she always thought she’d be above. God knows none of her other boyfriends- playthings, really- were like this. Archie isn’t even the prettiest or the smartest guy she’s dated. But he’s, so far, the only one who actually has a heart. It’s enough to melt this ice queen and that makes all the difference.

They pull apart, but only enough to speak face to face, their hands still linked.

“Just let me get a coat and we can,” he pauses to swallow, “we can go.” He backs away a little stiffly, as it just now remembering where they’re going, why she’s here.

Veronica only nods and smiles like some kind of automated doll.

She tries to relax and compose herself a bit better, but Archie returns before she finishes an exhale.

There’re millions of possible comments and comforting words running through Veronica’s mind as he closes the door behind him, but nothing sounds right. Yet she still can’t stay quiet.  

“Are you ready?” is all that passes her lips.

Archie finishes locking the door and turns back to her with a slight smile. He gently takes her hand in his.

“I am now.”

* * *

 

Their walk to the hospital is silent, but not in an oppressive way. Calmer, reminding Veronica of the few moments they have before mass, when you’re meant to say private prayers or meditate to yourself. Contemplative silence, that’s what it’s called.

Archie holds her hand the entire way. In the past, that kind of clinginess was grounds for an immediate break-up; she remembers saying something like “reeks of desperation and I wouldn’t be caught dead smelling like that.”

Her only response now is to bring him closer.

Any other day, they could have been walking to Pop’s; after much coaxing Archie eventually convinced Veronica of the wonders that is their breakfast menu. Sadly, the hospital is the only place besides Pop’s that’s always open early.

It’s smaller than any hospital Veronica’s had the misfortune of walking into, but is more than big enough for this small town. The nurse at reception recognizes them and extends the courtesy of nothing more than a sad smile before having them sign in.  

The path to Fred Andrews’ room always seems long no matter how often it’s been walked since his admittance. For the first time, it’s just the two of them and somehow seems to stretch out further.

Archie hitches his breath in the exact same way every time they walk in. Veronica squeezes his hand as they sit down in the chairs next to a softly beeping monitor. Archie’s dad hasn’t been in her life long, but from all their interactions he’s given her the impression of something sturdy and shielding. He’s like an oak tree that never goes anywhere and has strong branches reaching out to protect everyone around him.  

Right now, he’s just a man. Lying scarily still in a hospital bed. Smaller, paler, connected to machines by clear tubes. Everything about this image doesn’t make sense and Veronica wishes it didn’t exist.

Still holding her hand, Archie reaches forward to grasp his dad’s left hand. She watches as he softly squeezes it in a silent prayer. Then he squeezes Veronica’s.

It’s as if they’re a lifeline, trying to pass on a heartbeat, some kind of life to the person who needs it.

The three of them remain like that for what could be minutes, hours. Veronica doesn’t care. She’ll be here however long Archie needs.

It’s the least she can do. It’s also probably the bravest thing she’s done.

The thought is sharp enough to stab, but she lets it tear her open. Every feeling she claims to never have steadily flows out. Manifesting into action, she brings herself closer to Archie, as much as she can be without physically leaving her chair.

Veronica cautiously lays her head against his shoulder. They’ve been closer, physically, but this feels more intimate than sex. She doesn’t understand how to be vulnerable, it isn’t the Lodge way, but it must be something like this: aching, bursting, and hollowed out all at once by the sheer force of emotion. It’s love without manipulation, love without anything gained for herself, love just for the sake of love.

Without even willing it, a tear slips from the corner of her eye. She’s not sure who it’s for- Archie, his dad, herself, all of them- but she knows it’s coming from a deep well of pain in her she’s been filling and burying for so long.

If only her old world could see her now; Veronica Lodge is a real human, no ice in her veins, she bleeds like everyone else. Stay long enough and you can see her cry too.

Archie doesn’t say anything, just turns his head enough for their foreheads to touch and their cheeks to brush. Whether by accident or design, he catches her one tear and keeps it from falling to the floor.

It’s that moment, in this depressing hospital room with a man she prays will live and boy she can’t believe is real, Veronica Lodge feels like she’s finally becoming the person she wants to be.

* * *

 

Eventually, time passes enough for a nurse to come in and check on Fred Andrews. It’s their cue to depart for now. Archie’s sure to come back before the end of the day and Veronica will be there with him.

As they exit the hospital, an unexpected figure comes their way. Her mother, Hermione Lodge, here to pay her respects for someone she gave away for the fancy clothes, expensive home, and designer purses lined with credit cards she can’t live without.

Maybe a part of her still cares for Fred Andrews. Veronica presses her lips together at the thought because the cynical part of her knows it’s because of the guilt. Her stomach roils at another thought that’s becoming a frequent visitor: her family- her father, in particular- could be responsible for Archie’s dad being in the hospital.

If that’s true, the ties will be severed for good. No going back to her family. The idea doesn’t fill her with as much fear as it used to. She squeezes Archie’s hand, feels the squeeze back, and knows she’ll survive.

She passes by her mother without any open acknowledgement and enough space between them to erect a wall. Veronica holds her head upright as she walks away from the only family she’s used to fighting for.

What’s more, she doesn’t look back.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, so this kind of got away from me, but honestly that's how all my fics turn out so I really shouldn't be surprised. This is a show I have no business liking and yet I do; probably has something to do with its Twin Peaks-like aura. Veronica is my absolute favorite, I think she's the most complex character on the show and is the first one to jump at me to write. Surprisingly (considering how often I write slash/femslash), I like her and Archie together, they have potential as a sweet couple that builds each other up in the midst of the drama and horrors. I might write more of them in the future, but I just wanted to get this little introspective piece out of my system. Some of this just feels like mindless rambling, but Veronica has LAYERS and I just wanna keep digging to get at them.


End file.
